


2:47 AM

by cinnacoffi



Category: History (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 00:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9266366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnacoffi/pseuds/cinnacoffi
Summary: Things you regret.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a repost from aff. So if it seems familiar thats why.

_its rising_

 

Little droplets pool at his feet, slowly. They morph and merge into a shapeless, elusive body.  
He should be more alarmed, really, but the water is at such a small volume that he pays it no mind. Just like how Kyungil never really paid him any mind at all.

The water was clear, and shiny, like the whites of his own eyes. They were glassy, and wide open. Open; he was open before Kyungil once. He was shaking, each exhale was as fragile as his state of mind. He remembers the static of the tv, his head on the other’s lap and doing nothing but wasting each other's time. He’d been close enough, so close that he could trace the lines of Kyungil’s face, the soft yellow light casting subtle shadows over his features. The freckle on his nose, the curve of his his lips, Yijeong would memorize all of it. Kyungil was warm, but back then he didn’t mean anything. Back then Kyungil was as mundane as brushing your teeth in the morning, you just didn’t really pay it any mind. Back then Kyungil was a habit; something familiar, which Yijeong was fine with. Back then they’d go drinking saturdays, and then complain and bitch about it together on sundays. Kyungil always swore he’d never drink again, face framed by the toilet bowl and hair messy. Yijeong could never find the energy to refute that. All he could do was sit next to him, his head pounding.

 

_Slowly, it’s rising_

Passing his ankles, but still too far below his knees to really deserve any attention. It’s warm, his feet are distorted, separating from his own body in shallow waves. Flecks of his pale skin slip between the clear water. He wishes time would go by faster.

They were friends, they were friends, they were friends. They were something he’d have to keep telling himself. They were something he’d spend hours, days, weeks, memorizing. He’d gotten down the idea of what they were suppose to be, like a college student studying for a final. Kyungil was an incredible person, harsh around the edges, intimidating, yet kind--and Yijeong, Yijeong was Kyungil’s best friend. His own veil of bitterness and longing didn’t tarnish the good memories though. There were a lot of great moments, like slivers of sunlight peaking through the blinds in the morning. He remembers getting woken up at dawn, because Kyungil wanted to surprise him with a road trip. They spent 10 days just driving-- _they_ including Sihyoung, Dokyun, and Jaeho. The moments he found himself alone, with Kyungil that is, he treasured. The 12 am pit stops to convenience stores that were practically closing. The summer air being annoyingly humid. The way Kyungil’s eyes bore into his whenever they’d talk in private, just half eaten snacks between them along with half assed conversations. Half assed on Yijeong’s part at least--how could he pay attention when Kyungil was a breath away. He’d fallen asleep against Kyungil at least once. Yijeong still remembers the warmth of Kyungil’s lips just barely touching his when he had moved to wake up properly. Aside from the road trip, there was also the time he laughed his ass off at the sight of Kyungil falling onto the dance floor, and then proceeding to writhe in pain. The idiot was stupid enough to try table dancing at the club they were at. It _was_ pretty funny, until Kyungil wouldn’t get up and Yijeong realized that _oh_ Kyungil might’ve actually broken something. (Which he did, he sprained an ankle and cracked a rib). Another fond memory he had of Kyungil was when they went out to this new breakfast place that had just opened near their apartment. Amongst the blur of impatient customers and distracted servers, he remembers witnessing Kyungil lock eyes with a girl across the room and-- wait.

 

_Higher, and higher_

His vision is blurry, his tears finally joining the water. He can’t even see his feet anymore, but he’s lost any energy to wonder if the sight should be terrifying or not. It’s no longer warm, all the heat had drained from the water, and he can relate.

 

They slept together once. If it’s in the sense of just sleeping next to each other however, they’ve done that more times than Yijeong could count. But Kyungil smashing Yijeong’s lips onto his, more teeth than Yijeong would’ve liked, _tha_ t was something new. They were both pretty drunk, Kyungil more so, and it seemed the elevator was playing some sort of cupid that night. The walls were pushing them closer, and closer together. Yijeong stubbornly ignored the change in atmosphere. He tried to at least. Until the wall’s closed in enough to force Yijeong to look up. Kyungil was as inappropriately close as always, but his eyes seemed to be eerily focused. The rest of that night Yijeong really only remembers in still images. He wishes he could recall what if felt like, but maybe that's a blessing. He remembers simple moments at least; Kyungil pushing him onto the bed, Kyungil pushing _into_ him, Kyungil crawling off of him, and passing out. Yijeong wishes he never woke up. When de did he had felt so empty, but the bed wasn’t. Kyungil looked right at him, across from what felt like an entire ocean of bed sheets, and said ‘Everything I told you, forget it’. Yijeong didn’t even know Kyungil had said anything. So he just nodded, prayed his face didn’t give anything away, and nodded. They weren’t friends for a week. They were back to normal sooner than he’d anticipated. Yijeong found himself back to being Kyungil’s best friend like always. _She_ didn’t come in until later, half a year if Yijeong remembers correctly.

 

_The feelings between us_

The tears have stopped, but the water hasn’t. Passing his navel, just beneath his chest, it's coming. He could go now if he wants, but in some pathetic sense he’s waiting. The droplets have turned into a threatening pool of water, something he can’t ignore any longer.

 

She was kind of like those first few drops that collected at his feet when he thinks about it. She was easy to ignore, something passing, and seemingly harmless. He didn’t know that she’d find her way into his best friend's arms. Kyungil never called them dates, not to Yijeong's face at least. There was lipstick on his collar and notifications on his phone but that didn’t have to mean anything. It shouldn't have meant anything considering Yijeong was Kyungil’s best friend. Yijeong would always be Kyungil’s best friend. He found himself staying up later just to study. He could tell you what a friend meant forwards and backwards. According to Yijeong a friend was: 1. Someone who carries you home when you become too drunk. 2. Someone who watches cartoons with you while you both wear nothing but boxers. 3. Someone who’s not in love with you. Yijeong got the message pretty clear that Kyungil wasn’t harboring any feelings for him, so he felt proud to have such a really good friend. A really, really good friend; it didn’t hurt him at all to think about what a good friend Kyungil was. When it started to matter to Yijeong that she had found her own place in Kyungil’s life, that was when Yijeong came home to Kyungil bending her over their couch. Exactly one month ago. She was nice, honestly, and Yijeong didn’t harbor any ill feelings towards her other than slight jealousy. The one he had issues with was Kyungil. Sometimes, out of nowhere, Kyungil would ask Yijeong if he had something to say. Yijeong knew what he meant, but he didn’t think Kyungil realized he knew though. Either way he’d always play dumb, say any stupid thing to make Kyungil drop it. If Yijeong was being truthful he’d admit he was a coward. Actually he knew he was a coward, a total complete utter coward. That was why he-- That was why he--

 

_Suffocate me_

Everything felt heavy, not just the weight of the water, but the weight of his decision. It was up to his neck, and he all he could see when he looked down was some promise of relief. The only thing disrupting the silence was the sound of running water.

That was why he was here right now, surrounded by a full tub of water. Drowning himself in words he never said. He should’ve been honest with Kyungil, he should’ve took his time kissing him in the elevator, he should’ve taken _literally_ _any other path_ than the one he chose. He didn’t kiss Kyungil like he wanted to, slow and deliberate, so the other would know he meant it. He didn’t tell Kyungil he loved him after all those times he asked. He didn’t stop Kyungil from leaving their table just to go over to say hi to some girl. He didn’t even yell at Kyungil when he caught him in the living room. But what he did do, was plug in the blow dryer, and _plunge._


End file.
